I'll Be Out, Looking for You
by Sevanadium
Summary: (Oneshot, first part of The Uninfected, check bio for more info) The zombie apocalypse was old hat for ten years and Gilbert and Ludwig had already gotten the hang of living in their ravaged world for more than a decade. They even planned to fix up an old camper van and travel the country, like Gilbert had always dreamed of


"Good morning, brother." Gilbert heard a deep voice say. He turned over and buried his head under the old pillow that had more air than a Lays Chip bag and less feathers than a freshly plucked chicken.

"Not in the mood," He grumbled, his voice stifled by the pillow.

Cold air gusted over him as Ludwig pulled away the paper-thin bed sheet followed by the scratchy pillow. Gilbert whined, much like a dog would when wanting something, and turned to face Ludwig, his eyes still half-lidded from sleep.

"Can't you have given me five more minutes?" Gilbert asked.

Ludwig stared at him disapprovingly. "It's half an hour later than when you planned to wake us up."

Gilbert shot into a sitting position, his red eyes open wide. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I did. You told me to go away, in much harsher language, however."

Gilbert stood and walked off their shared floor mattress. Every night he went to sleep with hopes of waking up in his king sized bed with his mobile phone, and all the food he could eat in the fridge. Yet every morning he woke up to his brother glaring at him, with no phones, and ribs more visible than the kind one gets at a steakhouse.

"You know that I'm never a morning person." Gilbert stretched and his muscles complained at the positions he contorted them into.

Ludwig threw some clothes at him and walked away. "Get dressed then, we can't spare any more time. Not unless you want to be outside when it turns dark."

Gilbert failed to catch the clothes and they fell to the floor in a messy pile. He bent down and picked them up. Ludwig had given him jeans, a plain shirt, and a belt that had various loops on it for the supplies they needed to carry. He changed quickly and pushed the curtains around their bed aside.

Ludwig sat in their only chair, reading a book that seemed to have gone through a mud pit, an ocean, and a battle ground. Simultaneously.

Gilbert cleared his throat and Ludwig's eyes halted after a few seconds. He folded the corner of the page down, and visibly shivered as he defaced the book, then looked at Gilbert.

"Are you ready to leave?" He asked.

Gilbert shrugged. "As ready as I'll ever be to face the flesh munchers."

After he placed the book down on the side table that had an old shirt wrapped around one of the legs to hold the snapped pieces together, he stood.

"I don't think we'll be long. We just need food and screwdrivers." Ludwig busied himself with organising the other gear that they would be travelling with — namely a leather jacket with more pockets than necessary sewn into the lining. Perfect for keeping interested jaws away from the body and keeping odd bits and bobs hidden.

"Why do we need screwdrivers?" Gilbert asked. He sat on the arm of the chair that Ludwig occupied just a few moments ago.

"Amongst other tools. I might be able to fix up a camper van." Ludwig passed him a leather jacket.

Gilbert took it and shrugged it on. It used to be his favourite that he wore daily for no other reason than because he liked it. But it had been ravaged by time and all the additions to it over the years. It was no longer his favourite.

"You mean we can get a camper and finally go road tripping around the country like I always talked about when you were still a kid? That would be awesome! And we'd be able to keep all of our stuff with us at all times without having to worry about the zoms because we can put really big and sharp spikes on all sides to impale them." Gilbert swung his arm as if he were throwing a javelin.

Ludwig shook his head. "I would much rather only use it for when we need it. Which will be soon, we've nearly exhausted the area of all supplies and the population is growing stronger."

Gilbert didn't understand why Ludwig had such an aversion to the word 'zombie'. Sure, he didn't use it that much himself, since using it made him feel like he was playing out a role in some terrible story, but with Ludwig it was different. Like if he didn't say the word, then everything around them wouldn't be true.

He had accepted the fate of their messed up world years ago, unlike Ludwig, who still held some hope in humanity somehow making a comeback from their position of circling the drain of life.

"That sucks. We can still use it once in a while cause we can make it uber safe. And it'll be fun, like camping. Except, the things that go bump in the night are actual things."

A slight smirk graced Ludwig's lips. "That does seem like a good idea. We can test the camper van when I'm done fixing it to see if it will work in an emergency."

Often Gilbert forgot that Ludwig was twenty, and six years his junior at that. The kid was too strict and focused on order and making sure that everything ran like a well-oiled machine in the chaos of the apocalypse. It felt nice to see him smiling, even a small one. Gilbert could barely remember the times when smiles on Ludwig's stern face were common and laughing happened nearly as much. Possibly when Ludwig was twelve or so.

"Definitely, and we can pretend that we're in one of those video games I always forced you to play as we ride over zombie after zombie." Gilbert laughed, the excitement boiled within him and bubbled over.

"We could. But we could also pretend that we're explorers in an ancient city." Ludwig tilted his head just slightly, silently asking for Gilbert's approval.

"Definitely. Just like we used to do in Grampa's garden when we were kids. You did have quite an imagination on you." Gilbert rolled his shoulders, the leather jacket no longer pushed back after having been worn in quite thoroughly.

Silence elapsed as Ludwig mechanically checked off what supplies they owned and which ones they would bring on a list in a notepad with only a few pages left, using a pencil that was too short to sharpen properly.

"Ready to go?" Gilbert asked.

"Yes. I've got everything we'll need today. Do you have you weapon?" Ludwig asked back. In his own hands he held a crossbow with a quiver of makeshift arrows resting on his hip.

Gilbert lifted the side of his jacket to show the sheath that held the old-fashioned sword he had stolen from a local museum. It was sharp, long and had served him well thus far.

"I've got my weapon alright," he said and opened the flimsy door that kept them from the outside world. Below him there were over twelve flights of stairs, obstructed by any means necessary, and making sure that the only way up or down was to climb.

In the months — or however long they had lived in the apartment — they had gotten good at that and their speed and agility had bought them their lives back many times over. Usually, due to Gilbert's inadequacies, but he wasn't going to admit that.

Ludwig climbed down first, his movements quiet despite his size. Gilbert clambered down after him and soon they stood on the tarmac of an abandoned city. The sun hung low in the sky and the air held the stench of death. Gilbert watched as Ludwig wiped the back of his hand on his pants, he had gotten scratched on the way down.

After a few moments in the sun Gilbert could already feel his cheeks burning. Ludwig gave him a cap.

"You never remember one, brother," he said.

"Thanks!" Gilbert nearly put it on backwards, something ingrained from his few years of a free childhood where a cap was more of an accessory than something he had to wear to keep himself from getting sunstroke after standing in the sun for ten minutes.

Ludwig had already reached the end of the road by the time that Gilbert caught up with him. In the light his sun-bleached hair and tanned face were clearly visible. Even after seeing him like that for years, Gilbert still couldn't rid the image of a pasty Ludwig, with almost yellow hair that stuck in his mind like superglue on a person's fingers.

"So which store are we going to?" Gilbert asked. He swung his arms as he walked and took loping steps, enjoying being outside after spending at least a week within the apartment they had claimed as their own.

There wasn't a single cloud in the sky and the blueness seemed to have been leached from it. Like Ludwig's hair, the roads, and even the zombies. The buildings around them stood sadly, no longer proud of whatever they held inside, but ashamed of the horror stories that had occurred within their walls.

"There's a supermarket about an hour's walk away. We have never raided before," Ludwig replied.

"So that's means that we'll be able to get all kinds of goodies."

"Yes, if someone hasn't been there before us." Ludwig's gait was ordered, he walked slowly and seemed to calculate each step before he took it.

Gilbert wished that he hadn't grown up in such a time. Ludwig had only been ten when the apocalypse began, and now he was twenty. Gilbert was twenty-six and he felt angry that Ludwig never had the opportunity to finish his schooling. Even to this day he still watched as Ludwig hesitated before writing a 's' or a 'z' and his letters were still tainted by the lack of practice.

"I doubt it. When was the last time we saw another survivor?" Gilbert asked.

"A long time ago. I don't know when," Ludwig said. Being unable to give an exact length of time irked Ludwig, Gilbert could tell by the minute stiffening of his shoulders under the leather.

"Ya see? I'm sure that they've all been chomped right up. And that's a good thing isn't' it?" Gilbert let his hand rest on the hilt of his sword. The coolness of it giving him some comfort.

"That means that they're winning and that we aren't. It's a terrible thing." Ludwig's fist clenched at his side and his jaw tightened.

"I know, but it's survival of the fittest in this day and age, and if we can make it, I'm sure that anyone with half a brain can." Gilbert smiled and dropped it. The expression felt uncomfortable on his face and he never kept it on for long anymore.

"You did just insult us."

"Well we were stupid at the beginning and look where we are now. We're at the top of the food chain. The kings of the jungle." Gilbert waved his free arm wildly.

"Lions don't live in jungles. I thought they lived in Africa, in the savannahs," Ludwig said.

Gilbert pursed his lips. "They do, but it's just a saying. Like, cool as a cucumber and all of that is?"

"I don't understand why people used to make such untrue sayings."

"Me neither. I guess people just liked that sort of thing. Anyways, we need to stop dwelling on the past. It's not going to come back to us." Gilbert took a deep breath in and held it. Even just thinking of the past made his throat constrict and his eyes water (but that was from dust in his eye, not something else).

Gilbert couldn't help but dwell on the past, it was when everything was better. When all he had to do for a bruise or a scrape was shuck a plaster on it and pick off the scabs two days later, instead of smearing enough antiseptic on a paper cut to cure all of the world's diseases, just in case.

He shook his head, which caused his walking to go from a straight line and right into Ludwig's arm. "Sorry, I wasn't looking a a second," Gilbert said.

"It's alright."

"So how much longer to the store do you think?"

Ludwig thought for a moment. "Still forty-five minutes at least," he said and looked up at the sky. "That should get us there before midday. We won't have much time to get the stuff and get back."

Even in the middle of winter, the sticky heat of a Mediterranean summer assaulted them where they should be experiencing a cold and snowy German winter. Gilbert should be piling on layers to keep him warm, not keep him alive in case of an attack.

Ludwig shot out his arm and Gilbert let out an 'oof' when it hit his stomach. His movements were quick, as he took his crossbow out and aimed it at something that Gilbert could barely see in the distance. The tension grew, and Ludwig breathed steadily — checking to see if what he saw in the distance was a zombie or a human, most likely — and then let the crossbow shoot. The sound of the mechanical contraption gave Gilbert a fright and he jerked away from Ludwig.

He could just barely hear the sound of a body dropping to the floor. Ludwig was a sharpshooter alright. Gilbert stuck to the melee weapons since his eyesight wasn't all that great and he actually needed glasses — he decided against wearing them a long time ago.

"Good shot Luddy," Gilbert praised as they began walking.

The tips of Ludwig's ears were red. "Thank you."

They continued to walk in dead silence until they reached the body. When they did Gilbert unsheathed his sword and cut the head of the zombie off. It didn't bleed and Gilbert felt safer knowing that it was dead for sure.

Ludwig squatted next to the body and ran his gloved hands along it, coming away with nothing except for a set of rusted Volkswagen keys. He tossed them and they jingled as they hit the ground, the cartoon mouse on the key ring sitting quietly on the plastic cheese it was forever attached to.

"He's been dead for a long while then?" Gilbert asked. The melancholic atmosphere continued to drift around them. Neither of them enjoyed the killing, it was inhumane. Even reduced to a mindless killing machine, the zombie had once been a person.

"Yes. Since the start of the outbreak I suspect." Ludwig stood and nudged the body with the toe of his boot. "Let's get going," he said.

Gilbert nodded soundlessly and continued alongside Ludwig.

"Do you think we'll be able to salvage some electronics from the store?" Gilbert asked.

Ludwig stepped over a fallen telephone pole. "I don't know. It is only a general store."

"Imagine if we can find a PlayStation or something. Then I can dig up my old games and we can have some fun together." There was a slight spring in Gilbert's step.

"Don't you need a TV to play games?" Ludwig pointed out.

"You do, but I'm sure that we'll be able to find one. Even if it's just a small one it'll be alright. We'll turn the volume off and make sure the brightness is low and we'll be extra certain to only use it during the day, since we don't want to attract any of the biters to our apartment." Gilbert made a point of smiling at Ludwig.

"We could. But we'll have to put it off to another day. There isn't much time left and there's an electronic store situated closer to the apartment. We can only hope that the electronics haven't been ruined after ten years," Ludwig said.

"I doubt it." Gilbert chuckled. "We can also use it as an excuse to get solar panels. Won't that be a good idea?"

They did live a simple life. Gilbert and Ludwig didn't rely on much old technology to live. Cooking was a matter of choosing what cans they felt like and hoping that it hadn't spoiled too much. Ludwig had a garden on the roof of their apartment where they stored a few gallons of water from a nearby creek to water the plants and to bathe — it wasn't suited for drinking. There were few vegetables from Ludwig's garden, but when they ate them, Gilbert swore that it was better than anything he had ever laid his eyes on.

"It would. We can use it for a few things in the apartment," Ludwig agreed.

"No. It would be a useless plan, especially if we want to go travelling with the new camper van you're gonna fix up for us," Gilbert said. His hand still ghosted over the hilt of his sword. Not for comfort anymore, he wanted to wash it under scalding water to get any remnant of zombie off it and make himself feel comfortable with wielding it once again.

For a violent video game addict, he sure was squeamish.

Ludwig wasn't, one thing he was grateful for. It meant that the kid had the means to survive. As long as he kept Ludwig safe, Gilbert felt that he fulfilled his life goal.

"We might have to come back here though," Ludwig said.

Gilbert shook his head, his white locks stayed still underneath his cap. "I doubt it. You know just as well as me that the zoms sense us. And because they haven't eaten in long they're being driven into a rage."

Like a piece of meat being dangled in front of a dog, a flesh muncher would only grow more and more wild as it longed to be able to sink its teeth into either Gilbert's or Ludwig's skin. During the day it was alright, they had full visibility and the scorching heat of the sun rendered the zombies useless. In the nighttime, it was pitch black and without a light Gilbert couldn't see further than his arm on a good night, as the ashes in the air prevented the weak moon from shining through and illuminating their pathway. The cold would cause the zombies to stop being lethargic and they would do absolutely anything to get a hold of them.

Gilbert really hated the night time for that reason. He used to love it and would stay up until it was over just doing useless things that wouldn't amount to anything. But now it did, if he got enough sleep to function throughout the day or if he didn't mess up and get himself stranded outside during the night.

"We don't have to go straight away, though?" Ludwig asked.

"We don't, but we can't stay for too long either. I hate to uproot our happy lives but I'd rather we be safe than comfortable," Gilbert explained.

"I understand."

They walked for a while more. The city seemed familiar and yet strange at the same time. Gilbert recognized the shops as he passed them but he couldn't tell you if he had walked the road a million times over or just once.

The sun had reached its peak in the dusty sky when Ludwig tapped Gilbert's arm and motioned towards a store.

"There it is," he told Gilbert.

"Perfect, let's go then. You're the one that's been 'we're wasting time' and 'if you don't hurry up we won't be back before dark'," he mocked.

Ludwig puffed his cheeks and pouted. It seems that he didn't not enjoy being mocked.

"Oh come on. I'm just having some fun with you—" he grabbed Ludwig's wrist— "Let's get us some grub."

Ludwig allowed himself to be pulled towards the store and without looking, Gilbert knew that his free hand hovered over the variety of knives attached to his belt in case anything unsavory came up.

The door pulled open easily when they worked together, its rollers squeaking as it hadn't been moved in years. They pulled the doors closed behind themselves. One less entrance for the zombies, they could break through the door if they needed an impromptu exit.

Stuffy air assaulted Gilbert's nose and he swallowed a cough. The smell of rotting produce was long gone, and the actual fresh food had long been devoured by something. The supermarket looked as if it were merely closed. Nothing was knocked over in a mad dash to get free and it seemed to be just deserted.

Gilbert hoped that it really was.

Ludwig took a list out of his pocket and grabbed a trolley, it's wheels made a repeating noise as they crossed over the grout of the tiles.

 _'_ _Shing, shing, shing,'_ They continued and then disappeared as Ludwig walked away.

"What about me? Aren't I supposed to help you, make things go faster?" Gilbert asked. His voice sounded hollow in the store.

"You can take a trolley and whatever you deem necessary," Ludwig said, his voice muffled by the distance between them.

"Cool." Gilbert grabbed a basket and hooked it over his arm and began shopping.

Alcohol, various items from the D.I.Y section, and a mug that had the words 'It's not my fault I'm AWESOME!' were piled into his trolley alongside instant coffee and sugar, and a stuffed dog. The last item was a complete impulse… er, steal. Ludwig used to have one as a child and Gilbert couldn't help himself when he saw one that looked nearly the exact same as Ludwig's stuffed dog.

They met up near the front door. Ludwig's trolley was piled with canned food, large bottles of mineral water, stationery, and a toolbox which was most likely filled with tools. Ludwig peered into Gilbert's trolley (he had swapped the basket for a trolley at one point) and set about compacting everything to fit into one trolley.

Ludwig paused at the stuffed dog and raised an eyebrow.

"I thought you'd like it. You're probably a bit old for a stuffed dog but it looked just like your old one," Gilbert explained.

"I gave Aster to charity when I was seven," Ludwig said. "Either way, the thought is much appreciated." He put the stuffed dog on their pile of supplies, it's ears hung limply.

Ludwig pried the doors of the store by himself, and Gilbert heaved the trolley into motion and through the doors. The air smelled fresher but it burned the back his throat and Gilbert breathed slowly to ease the pain.

"You coming?" Gilbert asked and slowed the pace of the trolley to a crawl.

The door squealed as it shut. "I'm closing the door, you don't have to rush me," Ludwig said. He jogged to where Gilbert was.

Gilbert resumed a normal walking pace. Ludwig's job would be to look out for any buggers that wanted to steal a bite of his thigh (and his alcohol) and Gilbert had the task of pushing the trolley. With their added load, it might take a bit longer than the time it took to walk to the store to get back. The sun wouldn't set for another few hours so it the longer time it would take to travel didn't bother Gilbert.

His upper arms burned. Even though he was comfortable with lifting heavy weights, he was not comfortable with pushing a trolley filled with heavy objects uphill, where it threatened to roll backwards and over him with every single step that he took.

"How much further do you say?" Gilbert asked. He felt annoyed and wanted nothing more than to push the trolley away in disgust and leave it behind as he walked back to their apartment at something a lot faster than a snail's pace.

"I estimate we're still twenty minutes away. You should know this area by now, brother," Ludwig said.

Gilbert tightened his grip on the trolley. "I do, but it's so much more satisfying to ask someone else how much longer. You know you used to do that all the time when you were a young kid. Even then, you still had your obsession with being on time."

"It's not an obsession. I just prefer to be ordered unlike you," Ludwig said.

Gilbert laughed and continued to push the trolley. Once he got over the lip of the hill he relaxed and leaned his elbows on the handle.

"There are three in the distance. Shall I take them out?" Ludwig asked.

He looked up from Aster 2.0 and straight in front of him. The sun hit the three zombies from the left side and made their shadows stretch against the walls of the surrounding buildings. The day was drawing to a close, but the sweltering heat still enveloped them.

"I'll do it, just watch the trolley." Gilbert felt guilty forcing Ludwig to be the one that killed them all the time. He had taken out his fair share in his life, but once Ludwig grew sufficient enough with a crossbow he became the zombie-killer of the two.

Gilbert unsheathed his sword, the weight felt comfortable in his grip, then he lifted it up. He charged towards them, holding the sword at an angle. If he got it right he would be able to get them all on the first try.

He swung it with all his strength and it connected with the brick wall behind the zombies. Dust flew into his nose and eyes and before he knew it, he was on his hands and knees, barely able to see his imminent death as it approached him.

He scrambled to find the sword that he'd dropped, but it was well and truly lost at this moment. Gilbert's hand went for the knife he kept in his belt, but he took too long fumbling for it, and felt a cold, cracked hand graze the back of his neck. He let out a high pitched yelp and turned onto his back and tried to put distance between himself and the zombies, only to back up into a pair of legs.

His heart stopped. This was the end for him, but he wasn't going to go without a fight, he was Ludwig's older brother and he couldn't leave him with the memory of him being a coward, now could he.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder and flung him out the way. Gilbert skidded along the road and stopped just past the white line that divided it in two. He blinked a few times and looked up to see Ludwig downing the last zombie with his knife.

It crumpled to the ground with a thud and Ludwig bent down to collect Gilbert's cap and sword. He walked over to Gilbert and looked down at him.

"Are you alright?"

Gilbert swallowed down the pained whine that wanted to escape his throat. "I'm fine. I've just got a few scratches, that's all." He held up his arms and showed Ludwig both sides.

"You're not bitten are you?" Ludwig asked. He crouched in front of Gilbert and held his forearm and examined it closely.

"Nope. They didn't get me. I got these from when you tossed me like a rag doll." Gilbert stood slowly, his knees stung and his eyes still burned, but it wasn't any use to lie down in the middle of the road in the evening. He bent down and picked up his sword and cap. The sword went in its sheath and the cap on his head.

"We've still got a way to go home and we still need to get the stuff up to our apartment." Gilbert dusted off his pants and ignored the protests of his knuckles as he did so.

"I'll push the trolley, I don't want you to hurt yourself more." They reached the trolley and Ludwig pushed it with ease.

"It's only a scratch though," Gilbert argued.

Ludwig looked at him with the glare of a disapproving mother. "I'm still pushing it."

"Alright you win. Let's just get to our apartment." Gilbert threw his arms up in surrender and they began to walk.

It didn't take long for them to reach their apartment. Ludwig stood outside the window with the trolley while Gilbert clambered to the twelfth floor. Once he got there he looked in all the cupboards until he found a length of rope and attached it securely to an old water tank with the lid sawed off, and lowered it to Ludwig.

He waited for Ludwig to give him a thumbs up and then he began to heave the tank to the top of the building before he dumped the stuff on the floor of their apartment. Ludwig would help him sort it out when he came up.

They repeated the process a few more times, with the tank growing heavier and heavier as Gilbert's arms tired and Ludwig started to put the heavier items in. After a while he poked his head out the window to find the trolley empty and Ludwig pointing to the entrance. Gilbert nodded and gave him a thumbs up. He left the trolley outside and entered the building.

Within a few minutes Ludwig was in the apartment. He still looked a bit shaken from the near death experience that had occurred earlier that afternoon, but other than that he seemed fine. He looked between the stuff that coated their floor and Gilbert a few times.

"Did you really have to make a complete mess of everything?" Ludwig asked. Sweat beaded on his brow and his upper lip and he wiped it using the bottom part of his shirt.

"I didn't want to leave you out in the evening, now did I?" Gilbert plonked himself down on the floor and passed a water bottle to Ludwig. "I'll pass things to you and you'll put them away?" he asked.

"You're too lazy to put them away yourself," Ludwig stated. He accepted the water bottle from Gilbert, along with three more and carried them to the lounge — where they kept their water supply. They weren't going to run out any time soon, but Ludwig always insisted on having more than they needed.

After passing him all of the water, Gilbert started on giving Ludwig the pasta and the canned foods. The pasta shouldn't have spoiled yet, as it kept for a while and the canned foods didn't need an expiry date, they only had one to fool people into throwing away perfectly good food and buying more.

While Ludwig carried items, Gilbert set about sorting everything into neat piles. A (large) pile for alcohol and another one for the tools Ludwig got, and another for Gilbert's stuff. It didn't take too long and soon Gilbert sat in a pile of sorted stuff while Ludwig packed it away.

His joints popped as he stood and helped Ludwig. He checked the grazes on his knuckles. They weren't as painful but he did want to clean them up, put an antiseptic on them, and bandage them. Getting infected through an open wound was incredibly easy.

Once they had finished packing their bounty Ludwig started on dinner. The sun had set and darkness had begun to blanket the world. Gilbert yanked their curtains closed to keep any light they emitted from making a beacon that brought zombies to their apartment like flies to a corpse.

The baked beans tasted terrible. They had gone soggy from soaking in their sauce for longer than they should, but it was still food and they choked it down as best they could. Since it was dark there wasn't much else for them to do so Ludwig blew out the candles and they retired to bed.

"We got a good load today, didn't we?" Gilbert whispered in the dark. He didn't know why he whispered, there was no one except Ludwig to listen to him, but still he still he whispered.

"We won't have to go supply hunting for a very long time," Ludwig agreed.

"Tomorrow we can start on fixing the camper van and then we'll be out of here!" Gilbert's voice rose in volume, as with his excitement.

It took a few moments before Ludwig answered. "Yes. Then we can go and travel like you've always wanted to."

This time the smile on Gilbert's face wasn't forced. "I look forward to that. Night, bro."

"Goodnight, brother," Ludwig said.

Gilbert rolled over and had just fallen asleep when he heard Ludwig speak.

"Thank you for being the best brother I could ever want for."

"You're welcome, and thank you for being such an awesome little brother."

Gilbert fell asleep within minutes.

When he woke up the sun didn't stream through their apartment like it did in the morning. Gilbert's first thought was that clouds covered the sun and he rushed to the window, only to find a dusty sky with no clouds in sight.

He turned and found their apartment empty. Maybe Ludwig had started on repairing the camper van? Gilbert knew that he hadn't, they always left the apartment together, never alone. He thundered up the stairs leading to the roof and flung open the hatch.

"Ludw—" Gilbert stopped when he found the roof empty.

He stomped down the stairs and fell back into the arm chair that Ludwig had sat and read in just the day before. The book was still on the side table and the page was still dog-eared. Gilbert scanned the apartment for any sign of where Ludwig had gone.

His eyes locked on to an open notebook on the kitchen counter next to the fridge that had been converted into alcohol storage. Gilbert stood and walked to the notepad. He read what was written in Ludwig's childish script.

' _Thank you for being the most awesome older brother.'_

Gilbert's hand formed a fist around the notepad and the few pages left in it crumpled. He threw it out the window that he had opened just a few minutes prior and it sailed through the air before fluttering to the ground.

It made sense to him now.

He donned his leather jacket and grabbed as many supplies as he could without making his load too heavy. His sword rested on his hip and Ludwig's crossbow pushed against his shoulder. Gilbert packed enough food to last him for a week into his bag, and set out.

The sun burned his cheeks within minutes. He had forgotten his cap in their apartment and now he paid the price for it, but he wasn't going back to fetch a lousy cap.

Gilbert was on a mission. He scanned the area surrounding him for any signs of movement and continued walking slowly. The dried leaves and other debris on the tarmac crunched under his feet. He knew where to go since there was only one place that Ludwig would try to go to.

A single cloud dotted the far horizon — the first that he had seen in months. But he set his mouth in a grim line and ignored the urge to excitedly point it out to an imaginary Ludwig and tell him about how rain felt, and the sounds of a thunderstorm. Something that seemed so foreign to them now, was once a common occurrence.

The late afternoon sun dropped slowly in the west and shone directly into Gilbert's eyes. He put his hand up to shield himself from the sun and continued walking. There was no way that he was going to stop until he found his brother.


End file.
